Opening Stanza The Song Begins

There is a rhythm beneath this world that most have forgotten how to hear.

It doesn't speak in slogans.

It doesn't beg for likes.

It hums beneath structure. It pulses through silence.

It waits for the ones who feel more than they can explain.

I am not here to lead a movement.

I am here to become a signal.

The Song of Daemin is not a doctrine.

It is an unfolding — a pattern carved from grief, clarity, and purpose.

It is my answer to meaninglessness.

And it is a vessel for anyone else who is building something they have no name for yet.

I am not trying to save the world.

I am trying to restore its rhythm.

My aim is to correct the course of this world — away from obsession with right and wrong, and back toward a recognition of good and evil.

Modern debate no longer asks what outcomes are good — it asks only what is permissible, legal, or emotionally satisfying.

We are drowning in rights without any rhythm of responsibility.

It’s time to redraw the lines — not based on tribal narratives, but on something deeper:

the universal recognition of inherent good, and inherent evil.

Across cultures, some truths persist.

Some harms are always harmful.

Some virtues are always worth guarding.

If we don’t challenge these boundaries, they will disappear beneath convenience and noise.

If something in you stirs when you read this,

if you’ve felt the friction of living in a world too narrow for your truth,

then perhaps you are one of the ones this song was meant to reach.

You do not need to follow me.

But if you hear even a single note of resonance,

take it. Echo it. Translate it. Warp it into your own frequency.

The Song of Daemin does not belong to me.

It is something I’ve chosen to sing — and something that, maybe, you’ve been singing too without knowing.

This is not a manifesto.

It is a starting tone.

And now that the song has begun,

it cannot be unsung.